Greek Myths The Trojan War Ch 7

Author's Note: This story is based on Greek Myths, but is my own interpretation (and therefore even more fictional =). This chapter contains MM sex. Enjoy!

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The day after Agamemnon had taken Briseis from Achilles, he led his troops against the Trojans. Achilles ordered his Myrmidons to stand down, taking no part in the fighting... instead, watching from a distant hill top. The day did not go well for Agamemnon and the Greeks... they were not as badly beaten as they had been when Chryseis had been in his bed, but they did not win either. At the end of the day both sides withdrew from battle, the Trojans feeling slightly more triumphant... after all, they did not have to win, they only had to defend themselves. And with Achilles and his men, the Greeks did not have enough force to over power them.

That night, Agamemnon's generals urged him to make peace with Achilles, to return the slave-girl so that Achilles would rejoin the fight.

He did not take his generals advice immediately... instead retiring to his tent to think things over. But he did not spend himself between the girl's thighs that night either.

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That same night, Patroclus was returned to the tent of Achilles... much younger than the famed warrior, this was Patroclus' first real battle. But he'd been trained by Achilles, mightiest of the mighty, and he looked forward to gaining his own legendary status in battle... however if Achilles continued to hold his men back that status might never be realized.

Achilles was lying in his bed, on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling... Patroclus wondered what he was seeing. The young man studied his leader, his hero... seeing the strong muscular curves. He loved Achilles in the way only a young Greek soldier could... he had been trained by Achilles in both battle and in eroticism, as was often the way within the Greek army.

Although he was never jealous of the women that Achilles brought back to his tent, Patroclus always remembered his time spent with Achilles when he heard the feminine cries of passion.

Walking forward to his leader, Patroclus sat next to him on the bed, "If we do not fight, the Greeks will fail."

"I do not care," said Achilles and indeed his voice was full of indifference, he continued to stare at the ceiling, "I told her I'd take care of her."

Patroclus hesitated, he knew how seriously Achilles took his promises... maybe if he could just get him to see that Achilles was not the only one who cared.

"She has not been abused," he told his leader, "And even now the others are imploring Agamemnon to return her to you."

"I don't know that I'll return to the fight even if he does," said Achilles listlessly, his face and voice hardened for a moment, "I hate that man."

Patroclus didn't know what to say, although he could feel his heart sinking at the idea that Achilles and his Myrmidons might withdraw from the fight. Whether or not Achilles got Briseis back... this was a War of the centuries and he badly wanted his name to be listed as one of the heroes. His own bit of fame... for surely a protege of Achilles would triumph in battle. But instead of arguing with his friend, Patroclus just laid his hand on Achilles' arm... hoping that Achilles could see in his eyes the pleadings for the future.

Instead, Achilles looked up at him and then quickly sat up, his hands going to either side of Patroclus' face and pulling him in for a kiss. Although startled, Patroclus had been Achilles' occasional lover long enough not to be startled enough to pull away. Now, in his twenties, he leaned into the kiss without enthusiasm, feeling his loins stirring. While there were plenty of slave women around after sacking the town, none of them had particularly interested him and so he'd had very little outlet for his desires... especially since he was the youngest of the Myrmidons. There was no young man that he was teaching to fight.

His memories of Achilles from several years ago caused his breath to quicken and his member to harden, he could feel Achilles pulling him down onto the sleeping pallet. The older warrior rolled on top of him, their hard muscular bodies pressed together, and Patroclus could feel Achilles becoming just as aroused as himself. Groaning, they pressed together, and then suddenly Achilles was moving up Patroclus' body.

Ripping off his own loin clothe, the famed warrior pressed his hard member to Patroclus' lips, the younger solider willingly opening for the firm, smooth shaft that eagerly sought out the deepness of his throat. Achilles' cupped Patroclus' head in his hands, pulling the young man's mouth further onto his shaft and moaning as Patroclus' tongue lashed the underside of him.

Looking up, Patroclus realized that Achilles' eyes were closed as he began thrusting in and out of Patroclus' mouth... they had never been closed before. Achilles had always liked to watch himself disappearing between Patroclus' lips. Patroclus ran his hands up Achilles' hairy thighs, squeezing them hard with firm fingers, Achilles' eyes flew open... but he was still staring blindly.

Patroclus' heart sank a little as he realized that Achilles was seeing Briseis in his minds eye, not the young man that was eagerly pleasuring him.

Still... he was the one in Achilles' bed tonight... not her. It was he who would take Achilles' seed into his body... and if nothing else he could savor that.

Suddenly Achilles moved, rolling Patroclus over and pulling him up onto all fours, roughly and quickly so that Patroclus didn't even have time to react before the wide, hard head of Achilles was pressing against his anus. He let out an agonized cry as the tiny whole was forced open, the blunt head of Achilles' shaft pressing forward and stretching him.

It had been so long since the last time that he was incredibly tight, and Patroclus had to bite his lip to keep from asking Achilles to stop. As the burning shaft pressed deeper he reminded himself that he wanted this, though his body spasmed as Achilles pulled out a little and then pressed forward again. His tightness gripped the wide length of Achilles, muscles rippling over the questing shaft and massaging it.

But Patroclus refused to give into the cramping pain... his own shaft had softened somewhat as he blinked back tears... but he was a warrior and he refused to give in to something he knew would eventually bring him great pleasure. Still, he couldn't help but grunt as Achilles thrust forward roughly, burying his entire burning length into Patroclus' backside. Then, to his relief, Achilles held still there, his hand gently caressing Patroclus' buttocks as his shaft twitched inside the younger man.

Then that caressing hand moved down to the front of Patroclus, finding his half hard dick and teasing it gently with his fingertips. Patroclus groaned, but not out of pain this time, as the soft touch of the hardened warrior brought his flagging spirits back to life; his ass clenched as pleasure shuddered through him, a soothing balm to the ache in his buttocks. He began to push back against Achilles' groin, his cock springing to life... and Achilles began to thrust in and out of his tight ass.

Patroclus moaned and wriggled, thrusting his dick back and forth through Achilles' hand in the same rhythm that Achilles was using to penetrate him. The shaft in his ass felt so large, slippery... incredibly erotic as it plunged back and forth, like it was pushing his dick from behind. The two men grunted and moaned as they moved faster and faster, their hard warrior bodies shoving against each other.

As Patroclus bucked, his seed began to spill forth onto Achilles' sleeping pallet, and his body tightened around the spear inside of him. He heard a moan, and then a pulsing inside of him, feeling every spurt of the older warrior's seed as it sped into his body, filling his darkness with white froth.

He gasped as Achilles pulled out of him roughly, shuddering at the sudden emptiness inside of him. Liquid began to trickle down his thighs as he stayed on all fours, quivering.

"Thank you friend." Achilles said quietly, patting him on the shoulder. And he left Patroclus there as he went to wash.

Friend. That one word said it all. Patroclus sighed and went to his own washroom.

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The next morning the troops cheered as Briseis was brought back to Achilles' tent, knowing that their hero would be returning to the battlefield soon.